Casually, I looked at her in the mirror as I slipped on the tennis bracelet I was wearing tonight.
“Need some help with that?” she offered.
“Thanks.”
As she reached out, from beneath her own diamond-studded tennis bracelet, I saw her ‘Property of Link’ brand.
It wasn’t the first time I’d seen it, but an odd feeling settled in my being. Much as it had when Stone and I had talked about the MC and belonging.
A craving had stirred inside me.
A need.
But it was also a reminder of her loyalty to the MC. She was an Old Lady. One who needed more than just to be Link’s woman.
I understood that duality, however. The need to belong, as well as the need to forge one’s own path.
As she slotted the bracelet's clasp into place for me, I asked, “Would you like to be more involved in the next event?”
“I’d love that,” she breathed shakily, her glee clear and more befitting a lottery win than the offer that she’d be shouldering months’ worth of headaches on my behalf. “You mean that?”
“Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. The last couple weeks ran ten times more smoothly than the previous twelve, and trust me, things are supposed to get more chaotic, not less. I can’t even thank you enough for all you’ve done.” I turned to her and reached out to grab her hand so I could squeeze her fingers. “You’ve been a lifesaver. I genuinely don’t know what I’d have done without you.”
Her gaze turned knowing. “How’s the morning sickness?”
“You’re not supposed to know.”
“Giulia asked me to watch out for you,” was her unapologetic reply. “How is it?”
“Worse than before.”
“Giulia said there’s nothing you can do.”
My lips curved. “I know. I don’t want the antiemetics the doctor suggested. Mostly she told me to calm down, which doesn’t exactly make a person calm down, does it?”
“Not really, no,” she said with a laugh.
“That’s why I’m grateful too. I can’t imagine how hard it would have been if I didn’t have your help. So, if you’re amenable, I’d like to take this from a part-time thing to a full-time operation—”
“You’re not serious?!” Lily squeaked, her eyes flaring wide.
“I am. Deadly,” I teased. “I arrange three to four of these a year, but I’ve always been constrained, timewise, to keep the events localized.
"If you could make them bigger, get more of a push out there, liaise with whomever to get these fundraisers more known—”
“I have ideas,” she enthused, her voice high and squeaky. “So many ideas. I was going to talk to you about them, see if you thought they were achievable.
"I own the Landis Scraper on the Upper East Side—”
My eyes bugged. “You do?”
“Yeah,” she admitted sheepishly. “So I can pretty much guarantee that we’d have a venue tailored to our needs.”
I beamed a smile at her. “That’s brilliant. Next week, we’ll pencil down some time to sort through your ideas—”
She snagged both my hands and squeezed my fingers. “Thank you, Rachel. Thank you so damn much. I’ve been trying to get things off the ground with a foundation in my mom’s name, but what with everything, it’s just not been doable. To be a part of the good work you’re already doing is more than I could have hoped for.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, both amused and touched by her enthusiasm as I slipped my cell phones into my clutch purse and tucked it under my arm.
Giulia, it seemed, was right.
Lily had been struggling to find her place, and for Link’s sake, I was glad to have given her somewhere to land.
This might not work out; Lily could hate working for me or might not want to carry on, but we all needed to feel as if we had roots.
It made sense that someone with her past, from her family, who’d dived into the MC lifestyle, would flounder.
Before I could head out the door, Parker texted me.
Parker: You haven’t sent me a picture yet.
Rachel: Damn. I barely finished getting dressed! Bossy!
Parker: Just making sure you don’t forget.
*picture sent*
Rachel: Happy now?
Parker: You look beautiful. Rex doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.
Rachel: Lol. Lily just said that.
Parker: Everything okay there?
Rachel: Yeah, she’s got it all in hand.
Parker: Break a leg.
Rachel: I’ll try to break two. <3
Parker: <3
The next twenty minutes were spent confirming the schedule and that there were no changes to any of the auction lots.
There’d be a meal, dancing, an auction, some speeches, followed by more dancing.
Personally, I’d be glad when the damn thing was over.
I hated dancing with clients and making small talk, but it was all for a good cause.
Reminding them of the favors that indebted them to me always made for better auction prices.
Mostly, what I loathed was the behind-the-scenes stress.
If I could put those jobs on Lily’s shoulders too, I knew I’d dread these things much less. She was far more fitting as the face of FAST than the MC brat of a whore, anyway. Self-made criminals loved rubbing shoulders with American royalty like the Lindenbourgs.
You had to love the US. She might be the daughter of a criminal sex trafficker, but being associated with the Lindenbourgs stopped her from being a total social pariah.
Time squirreled away from us as we headed downstairs and made sure that everything was running smoothly.
I greeted some of the new arrivals, watched as most people found their seats without any problem, smiled when I saw a bunch of these so-called hardened criminals dancing with their women like they were on Dancing with the Stars.
The Victoria was a five-star hotel deep in the heart of Manhattan, and I’d always used their event halls because they gave a touch of much-needed class to my foundations.
Maybe Lily and her help had brought it to my attention, but I realized I had a chip on my shoulder. A massive one.
Nobody here made me feel like I didn’t belong—how could they? Most of them had worse reps than I did! But that limited my charities’ endeavors. It meant that we weren’t receiving as many donations as we should be getting.
Lily would rectify that, and FAST and my other foundations would benefit from it.
FAST, more than the others, was particularly close to my heart.
Amid the Art Deco glamor of a ballroom that twinkled with lights from massive chandeliers with beautiful parquet flooring that only added to that touch of class, I swirled among the crowd, wearing diamonds I’d bought myself, a ten-thousand-dollar gown that I’d comfortably purchased for this event, and with a set of heels that made my inner teenager swoon.
I’d done this.
That was the thought that rammed its way home as I circulated.
Me.
I’d done this.
I’d bought and paid for everything. My foundation existed because it was my brainchild.
It was only now that I realized what I’d achieved, what I’d accomplished, and while I knew I had let Wynter down, this was something I could be proud of.